Sarah Hickey: Living, Moving, and Thriving with Stage 4 Cancer
In 2020, just weeks before my daughter’s first birthday and in the isolation of a global pandemic, I was diagnosed with Stage 4 angiosarcoma - a rare and aggressive breast cancer that develops in the blood vessels of the breast. It accounts for less than 0.1% of all breast cancers.
I had been fighting for months before the word “cancer” was ever spoken to me. I found my own lump while breastfeeding and knew something wasn’t right. My concerns were brushed off. I was told I was “too young” for cancer, that it was likely nothing. But I pushed anyway. I kept asking, kept advocating, kept demanding answers that no one seemed in a hurry to get for me. I believe my persistence - my refusal to be dismissed - saved my life.
When my diagnosis finally came, it arrived over the phone from the same doctor who once told me it was nothing. Her voice was shaky. I was 32, holding a baby who had no idea her world might be about to change forever. My body stayed still but everything inside of me unraveled. I remember thinking, How will I tell my mom? Will I see my daughter grow up? Will she know a childhood without her mother? COVID meant no visitors, no hugs from friends or family, no one to sit with me in the fear. It was just me, my husband Dave, and our baby - and a terrifying new reality.
Since then, I’ve had a unilateral mastectomy, back surgery to remove two tumors, and an experimental immunotherapy that nearly killed me - leaving me with severe liver damage, lung damage, colitis, rheumatoid arthritis, and a steady 103°F fever for two weeks. I was in such pain that I couldn’t function without a constant rotation of fentanyl, morphine, and dilaudid. I truly thought I was preparing to leave my family behind.
After treatment, my body felt like foreign territory. I had lost trust in it. Pilates was one of the first places I began to rebuild that trust. It offered me strength when I felt weak, grounding when everything else felt uncertain, and - most importantly - it gave me community. In the years of isolation and medical upheaval, I had forgotten what it felt like to move with others, to be encouraged, to be seen beyond my diagnosis.
I live with the daily fear of leaving behind my best friend (my husband Dave) and my beautiful daughter Elle. That fear is real, but it also fuels me to live big, with clarified priorities and purpose. I spend my days prioritizing my physical and mental health and building my legacy: writing, advocating, and loving my friends and family fiercely. The hardest part of facing my own death is imagining my family without me. And that’s why Runway for Recovery means so much to me. They support families like mine - not just while someone is fighting, but also after they’re gone - filling a painful gap in the cancer community.
On October 3, I’ll walk the runway with Runway for Recovery in Boston (with my daughter by my side) to show her, and the world, that imperfect is strong and beautiful and what survivorship can look like. I’ve already raised nearly $7,000 for that event. And just before that, on September 28, Form Fitness will host a special Pilates class to raise money for Runway for Recovery. This event is separate from my Boston fundraiser - it’s our community making its own powerful impact.
Join us. Let’s move for something bigger than ourselves. Let’s make a boom.
~ Sarah Hickey, August 2025
